


never had nobody as sweet as you.

by Juvenile_Gemini



Category: Life Is Strange 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Body Dysphoria, Creampie, Daniel is the one true ally, Incest, Injections, M/M, PWP, Sibling Incest, Trans!Sean, Unsafe Sex, no powers au, second person Sean’s pov, they’re 16, twins au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23258812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juvenile_Gemini/pseuds/Juvenile_Gemini
Summary: Sean needs Daniel’s help with his T shots. Maybe he needs Daniel’s help with some other things too.
Relationships: Daniel Diaz/Sean Diaz
Comments: 16
Kudos: 45





	never had nobody as sweet as you.

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s that trans!Sean twins fic I’ve been yelling about on Twitter!! Porn is very hard to write. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> A mix of afab and amab language for Sean
> 
> Mind the tags!

_ Okay. Breathe. You got this. _

You pinch the meat of your thigh with one hand, holding the syringe in the other.

_ You’ll barely even feel it. It’s fine. _

You stare your own skin down like it’s personally offending you. Your breath is unsteady, your palms are starting to sweat, and you’ll have to get another alcohol pad and re-sanitize the injection site at this rate.

_ Come on, you fucking wimp, just get it done. _

“You want me to do it?”

“No, I got it,” you snap, despite all evidence pointing towards the contrary. You would prefer not to admit defeat. You would prefer anything to admitting defeat.

But fuck, you probably can’t do this.

He heaves an exasperated sigh. Pauses his video game. Crawls from his spot in front of the TV to kneel in front of you where you sit on the couch. He doesn’t even have to say anything. You wordlessly hand over the syringe and lean back, arms crossed like a child throwing a tantrum.

“It’s fine, dude, I don’t mind.”

He gives you a quick countdown and sticks the needle in your thigh without hesitation. Like it’s as easy as breathing to him. How many times has he done this for you now? How many times have you chickened out and got your brother to give you your hormones? Jesus, for seven months worth of injections at this point. You’re pathetic.

Daniel drops the empty syringe in the sharps container and puts your band-aid on for you. He gives you a comforting smile and taps your knee affectionately.

“You were close today. You did all the prep yourself and everything. You’ll get it next time.”

You groan, dragging a hand down your face. “It’s been half a year and I still freak out whenever I try. I’ll probably  _ never _ get it at this point.”

Daniel doesn’t say anything to that. When you look down, he’s still there between your legs, and for some reason, he’s zoned out, staring at your boxers.

“Uh. Dude. What the hell.”

He snaps out of whatever trance he was in and tears his gaze from your crotch. “Sorry, I was just. Thinking about something. I… nevermind, sorry.”

You quirk an eyebrow up at him. “Well, now you  _ have _ to tell me.”

“Nope. No I don’t.” He starts scooting back to his previous spot in front of the TV, and this… this is strange. Because Daniel is embarrassed. And Daniel doesn’t get embarrassed. You’re supposed to be the shy one, he’s supposed to be too bold for his own good.

“Hey, come on. Is it a trans thing? You afraid I’ll be mad? Whatever it is, I won’t. I told you I won’t be mad if you ask questions, as long as you’re respectful about it.”

You watch him silently debate, cheeks pink and bottom lip clamped between his teeth. “I just… I was wondering...” He huffs, angry at something. Maybe himself. “It’s… it’s supposed to grow, right?”

“What’s supposed to grow?”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Daniel’s face this red. This is clearly difficult for him, and it’s shitty of you, but you’re holding back laughter. He’s honestly pretty cute right now. He gestures vaguely at your body as he stammers, “you know, your… you know.”

“I actually don’t know. That’s kind of why I’m asking for clarification.”

“Ugh! Fuck! Your  _ clit! _ ”

You think you would have laughed. You would have laughed at Daniel disastrously fumbling over a perfectly understandable, albeit awkward, question about trans male junk. You would have laughed, if you hadn’t felt yourself throb. But you had. And now a tense silence settles over the living room like a thick quilt.

“I-I mean…” It’s your turn to stammer now. “Yeah, it uh… yeah.”

He still isn’t daring to look you in the eye, but you do catch his gaze flicking back to your boxers. You press your knees together as you throb again, and you try to tell yourself it’s nothing. It’s just the annoying equal-opportunity horniness you’ve been randomly subjected to since starting testosterone. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s not specifically because of your twin brother. It’s just your hormones going haywire.

“How much? I mean… how big is it now?”

You know your face is probably just as red as Daniel’s at this point. This isn’t exactly how you were expecting your Thursday afternoon to go.

“I don’t know, man, I don’t know how to describe it, it’s just… I don’t know!”

You watch Daniel’s tongue dart out to wet his lips. Then he’s shifting, crawling back to you to kneel at your feet. His face is still flushed as he wraps a hand around your ankle, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth across your skin. You don’t pull away.

“...Could I see it?”

This is a bad idea. This is a fucking insane idea. Daniel should not be considering this.  _ You  _ should not be considering this. Why are you considering this? You clammer for an excuse to deny him.

“W-what if Dad comes home?”

“He won’t be back for hours. We have time.”

The hand trails up your bare leg. Rests on your thigh, over the band-aid, thumb now circling over the curly black hair near your pelvic area. You’re getting hard, and you’re getting wet, and you have no self control.

Fuck.

“Okay. Yeah.”

You lift your hips off the couch. Daniel loops his fingers over the band of your boxers and tugs them off, and you sit back down as he tosses them to the side. You’re pressing your thighs together so hard your muscles burn. He rests a palm over each of your knees and gently pulls them apart, eyes trained on yours. You meet his gaze. You’re not sure you can look anywhere else.

He breaks eye contact to stare at your cunt. You don’t know what to do with your hands, so you settle for crossing your arms protectively over your chest. You’re hyper-aware of the binder constricting your ribs.

Daniel looks back up at you. “Can I…?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

Left hand still on your knee, he reaches his right to your mound, pushing back thick pubic hair to expose your lips and growing erection. Your hips involuntarily buck forward at his touch. He just stares silently for a moment, slack jawed, taking it in.

“You’re wet,” he notes.

“Can’t help it,” you mumble, thoroughly ashamed. You don’t need him to remind you.

“No, I mean, it’s…” He shakes his head. You don’t get to hear the end of that thought.

He presses his thumb against your clit, and you scream.

He flinches back, eyes wide. “Did I hurt you?” You’re biting your fist to keep from making any more humiliating noises, so you simply shake your head. Realization dawns on him. “Oh. Can I… keep going?”

After a beat of hesitation, you nod.

Daniel licks his lips again. He’s gonna drive you fucking crazy with that. He leans in closer, then dips two fingers between your folds to gather up slick and spread it across your dick. You’re holding back as much as you can, but you feel yourself close to shouting again. He plays around with your growth a few different ways, periodically glancing back up to check your reactions to each method.

“You know, you don’t have to be quiet. I wanna hear you.”

You don’t know why he would, but you take your knuckle out of your mouth all the same, letting your little whines and whimpers and moans escape from your throat as he works your clit. His touch is just hard enough to take you to the edge without letting you spill over. You wish he’d do more. You wish he’d take you in his mouth, you even find yourself hoping he’ll whip his dick out and shove it in you, and you’re too lost in pleasure to remember how disgusting that’s supposed to be.

Your eyes are screwed shut, but you feel his other hand disappear from your knee, and you hear him try and fail to hold back a grunt. When you open your eyes, you see him biting his lip, face contorted in discomfort, palm pressing against his crotch.

“You good?”

“Yeah, no, it’s just—with jeans, it… it hurts.”

If this happens, you know there won’t be any going back. You know you’ll go all the way. But that doesn’t even sound so bad right now. You’re starting to forget why fucking your twin would be so bad in the first place. Honestly, this just feels like the natural progression of your relationship. You’re always together. You’re always taking care of each other. It only makes sense for you to be together and take care of each other in this way too, right?

“Well, if it hurts, take them off,” you say. You look into each other’s eyes, and you see mutual understanding.

Yeah. This is happening.

Daniel retracts his fingers. He stands up, unbuttons and unzips his jeans, slowly, watching you as if he’s afraid you’ll change your mind. You don’t. He slips his pants off, and you can clearly see the hardening cock tenting his boxers, and you can’t fucking breathe.

“Shit,” you hiss. You tear off your shirt and wriggle out of your binder as fast as humanly possible. You take a deep breath, stretching your ribs out. Daniel’s gaze trails all over your body. At first, it’s nice. He’s looking at you like you’re the sexiest thing alive, and that’s oddly validating. But then you feel that disgusting skin-crawling dysphoria take over, and now it’s really not nice.

“Could I…?” you start to ask, but— “No, sorry, that’s stupid.”

“What is it?”

Daniel’s voice is soft and sweet. Like he always is to you. You shake your head and keep your eyes locked on his, avoiding looking down, avoiding a glimpse of your own chest. If you ignore it, it’ll be fine. Just focus on Daniel. Don’t let something so idiotic ruin this moment.

“Sean, dude, talk to me.”

He sits next to you, a hand lovingly caressing your thigh, expression so full of affection. His touch is relaxing. Grounding. He always knows what to do. You really, really appreciate Daniel.

“It’s just… Would it be weird if I kept my shirt on? It would be weird, right?”

His eyebrows furrow in gentle confusion. “No. Not at all. I want you to be comfortable. We don’t even have to go through with—“

“Oh no, we’re absolutely going through with this,” you assert. Then you backtrack. “I mean, as long as  _ you  _ still want to, of course.”

His lips curl up into one of his snarky, self-assured grins. “Oh, I want to, alright. Now put your shirt on so we can get on with it.”

You snort and follow his command. He strips off his own shirt, boxers following right behind, and now you have the chance to look at him. All of him. And by god, if you weren’t sure before, you’re absolutely sure now.

You already knew Daniel was attractive, in a logical sense. He’s conventionally attractive. Lean, but not lanky. He has nice hair. Nice eyes. Everyone fawns over him all the time, which is annoying as all hell. It’s impossible not to know Daniel’s attractive. But you never really let yourself think about him, or look at him, long enough to personally  _ feel  _ attracted to him. If you had… Well, the two of you may have gotten to this point a lot sooner, to tell the truth.

Daniel moves back to his kneeling position in front of you. You spread wider to give him better access, and when he licks a stripe up to your cock, you pull at his hair so hard it brings tears to those nice eyes of his.

“Fuck, Daniel…”

His tongue circles your growth, flattens out to rub it, giving you a much-needed friction you roll your hips up to meet. It feels so fucking good, and you tell him that again and again in between desperate pants and moans. Eventually, he shoves two fingers deep into your heat.

You want that to feel good, but it doesn’t.

Your whole body tenses up, your walls clenching up at the intrusion. Even with how wet you are, it’s too much to start out with, and it’s painful. Daniel immediately notices your discomfort. Always reading you like an open book. He carefully slips out of you.

“I hurt you,” he declares, voice dripping with worry and guilt.

“It’s fine, it’s just…” You swallow the spit collecting in your mouth. “Testosterone can make you tighter.”

“Oh. Shit… Will I even fit?”

“You will,” you assure him. There’s no way you’re stopping now. You need this like it’s the base of your hierarchy of needs. “It’ll just take more prep.”

“Alright. Okay.” He nods, expression schooled into so much determination and sobriety you have to hold back laughter. “I’ll go slow this time, okay?” God. He’s adorable.

“Okay. Go ahead.”

He starts with his tongue, making you squirm. Once you get comfortable, loosen up, he slips a single digit in. He takes his sweet time opening you up, and it’s a drastic improvement. He continues lapping at your clit periodically. It’s gone back to feeling good again. He’s a criminally fast learner, as he is with everything. You used to be jealous of that aspect of him, but not anymore. Now you’re just proud to be his brother.

It takes a while for him to get to three fingers, but he doesn’t seem to get bored for a single moment. Takes his sweet time. Like he’s been dying for a chance to do this.

“Do you think you’re ready now?” he finally asks when you’re all loose and pliable under his touch.

“Yeah, think so.”

“I’ll go super slow,” he promises.

He shifts your body around where he wants it, and the ease with which he does that, like you don’t weigh anything to him, makes your stomach flip. He lines the tip of his dick up to your entrance and looks at you, eyebrow raised in a silent  _ ready? _ You nod.

He sticks to his word—super slow. The head of his cock just barely pushes in, and he’s frantically asking you if you’re okay. Your lips quirk up in a half-smile as you assure him you’re fine, he can keep going. Slow and steady, achingly so, he inches in further, further, further. When he’s finally all the way in, he rests his sweaty forehead on yours, warm breath filling your nostrils as he pants.

“God, Sean, you’re so fucking tight, so tight and hot, and— _ fuck _ .”

You bring a hand up to the back of his neck, trailing your thumb back and forth to soothe him. You’re not in much better shape yourself, but you would like to make sure he doesn’t come on the first thrust.

Once he settles down, he pulls back, agonizingly slow, to the tip, and then thrusts back in with full force, sending both of you moaning in bliss. He starts up a steady rhythm, and it feels like heaven. You dig your heels into his back, pulling him closer, deeper.

Apparently, it’s not enough for Daniel. He swings your knees over his shoulders, folding you in half, pounding into you at an entirely different angle. You try to find something to hold onto, hands gripping at the back of the couch, the cushions, eventually ending up back to tugging Daniel’s hair, drawing a sharp hiss from him.

“Oh god, Sean…”

You move a hand down to your dick, jacking yourself off in time with his thrusts. He spent so much time working you up, accidentally edging you, you don’t last long at all. You come with a desperate shout embarrassingly fast.

Daniel slows to a halt. He pulls back like he intends to pull out, but you dig your heels into his back again to keep him inside.

“Oh no, you’re not done. Keep going.”

He blinks. “You mean…”

“Yeah. Come inside. I want it.”

He bites his lip with a groan. “Fuck, babe, I’m not gonna last long if you keep talking like that.”

Your chest swells with satisfaction at being called his babe. Something you’ve heard him call his ex-girlfriends. You find yourself retroactively hating each one of them, in some newly uncovered jealousy, and you glow with pride knowing you’re the one he’s falling apart for right now. None of them.

“Wanna feel you come inside me,” you continue in a spur of self-confidence. His thrusts pick back up, and so do your fingers, rubbing your overstimulated clit. “So deep, filling me up. Please, Daniel,  _ please, _ I  _ need  _ it.”

He moans your name over and over like a hymn, too lost in pleasure to say anything else. His thrusts grow erratic, and you know he’s close, and that knowledge pushes you to your second climax. As your orgasm washes over your body, you allow yourself to scream at the top of your lungs, shyness long forgotten.

When you’ve come down from the high, your entire body goes loose as a rag doll. You’re drowning in the afterglow, just barely conscious enough to notice his desperate mewl as he empties inside you.

He flops onto you, head coming to rest on your shoulder, knees slipping from the couch and threatening to send him falling to the floor. With your limbs tangled together, both of you blissfully fucked out, you can’t even tell where your body ends and his begins. Is this what that metaphor means? “Becoming one”? You get it now. You get it.

Once the sweat starts to cool, and the skin sticking together starts to prickle uncomfortably, you pull apart from each other. You feel Daniel’s come trickle out of you, and he swears, clumsily grabbing tissues from the box on the coffee table to wipe you up. You kind of want to get a shower, but you mostly want to grab Daniel and pull him back down for some post-sex cuddles. The latter desire wins for the time being. He joins you easily, shifting your bodies around so that you’re lying on his chest.

“You good?” he asks you, voice still husky and breathless.

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah.”

You listen to his heartbeat as it gradually evens out. Even if it’s sweaty and gross, it’s so nice to have him hold you in his arms like this. Being close to him. Closer than you’ve ever been. The voice of reason barely audible in the back of your head warns you that you shouldn’t stay here too long. It would be too easy to fall asleep, and what a sight would this make for your father to come home to?

“We should get up,” you say without much force behind it.

“Mm-hm.” Daniel doesn’t move an inch.

“Seriously. We need to shower and clean up before Dad gets back.”

“Mm-hm.”

You sigh and pull yourself out of Daniel’s grasp despite his whiny objections. You yank him up by the arm to join you, dragging him towards the bathroom.

“Come on, dude. We can cuddle in my bed when we’re done.”

That sparks him into action. He picks up the pace and happily joins you for a shower.

Going in together could have been a dangerous game, but Daniel doesn’t even look at you once your shirt’s off. It’s… really sweet of him. He chatters on about whatever random mundane thoughts flutter through his brain, keeping you distracted and dysphoria-free as you scrub yourself clean. When he gets out, he hands you a towel before taking his own and retreating to his room, giving you privacy as you dry off and get dressed.

You’re both back in your dirty clothes to avoid suspicion. You get rid of the cum-soaked tissues, wipe the sweat off the couch, and you even get out a bottle of unscented febreze, spraying the room within an inch of its life as Daniel laughs at you.

“God, it was so fucking stupid to do this out here. Why didn’t we go to one of the bedrooms?”

“Horny brain can’t think that far ahead,” Daniel explains.

“Jesus, we’re dumbasses. It’ll be your bed next time.”

You freeze. Next time.  _ Next time.  _ Why are you assuming there’s a next time? You didn’t talk about a next time. What if this was just some bizarre standalone event for Daniel? What if he’s going to regret this by tomorrow? What if you’ve freaked him out and ruined everything forever?

When you sneak a worried glance, he’s smiling. Serene, peaceful. He slips an arm around your waist and pulls you close, and his touch feels just as intimate fully clothed.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

Your breath hitches. And then you bust out into laughter, because holy shit, you just let him come inside you and you still haven’t had your first kiss.

Daniel’s smile falters for a moment, but it returns when you giggle, “of course!” He places a gentle palm on your cheek. You nuzzle into it, he gives a soft hum, then he’s closing his eyes, leaning in, and you follow his lead.

It’s a pretty amazing first kiss, you think. His lips are wetter and colder than you thought they’d be, but it’s perfect. He’s perfect. You can’t imagine sharing this with anyone other than him. Your toes are curling and your stomach is full of butterflies and you feel like your skin isn’t capable of holding all your joy. You reach up to cradle his neck with both hands, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. It stays relatively chaste. No tongues, no wandering hands. It’s tooth-rottingly sweet.

It makes you come to terms with the fact that, somewhere along the way, you unwittingly fell in love with your twin brother.

You pull back to look him in those big beautiful eyes. He looks just as happy as you feel, but you need to make sure. You need him to say it out loud.

“I love you,” you tell him, slow and deliberate.

“I love you too,” he answers, and his words are coated in passion. Certainty. A promise. You bury your face in his shoulder to hide your blush, and you feel the reverberation of his laughter as he hugs you tight. “I really do love you. A lot. And, if you feel the same way, I don’t want this to be a one-time thing. I know we’ll have to be careful, nobody can know, all that shit, but… it’s worth it to me.”

“Me too. It’s you and me, you know? I wanna be with you, in every way. Forever.”

“Forever.”

  
  
  
  


Dad finds the two of you half an hour later laying on your bed, chests pressed together, in a sloppy mess of wayward limbs.

“Did Daniel watch a sad movie again?”

“Maybe,” Daniel answers, putting on his best  _ why did they kill the dog  _ voice.

Dad laughs, and you and Daniel both fight back cheeky grins. “Well, if you’re feeling ready to brave the world again, I could use some help with dinner.”

“Coming,” you and Daniel say in unison.

Once your dad is gone, Daniel gives a sleepy groan and snuggles up impossibly closer to you. “Don’t wanna get up,” he whines into your neck.

“I know, dude, but we gotta.”

You should probably call him some cute pet name now instead of “dude,” but it slips out naturally. It’ll take a while to get used to this whole  _ together  _ thing. On one hand, it feels like everything’s changed. On the other, it feels like absolutely nothing has. There’s an undeniable paradigm shift between you two, in the best possible way, but the building blocks were already there. You’ve always loved each other more than anyone else in the world. You’ve always known it’s Sean and Daniel against the world. Like you were destined to be together from the start. Maybe you were. Are twins just the ultimate soulmates?

You unravel your limbs and sit up in bed, stretching with a yawn, then slap him on the ass. “Come on. Get up, you lazy bitch.”

He gives you a comically devilish grin.

“No. Don’t look at me like that. We have to go assist our loving father now.”

He lowers his voice to the quietest whisper to ask, “can you kiss me first?”

You can’t deny him. You lean down and give him a peck. And then another. And another. Your movements are careful and measured, but passionate, and you pray the racket Dad’s making in the kitchen is loud enough to mask the distinctive sounds of making out through the open door. This is dangerous, but the danger doesn’t deter you. It might even make it hotter.

“Shit,” you curse as you pull back, “we need to find some self control, or we’re gonna get caught in, like, a week.”

Daniel hums thoughtfully. He looks as if he wants to shove you back down on the bed and ravish you, but he holds himself back.

“Can I come back tonight? Not to do anything. Just cuddle.”

You consider it for a moment, mentally going over the level of risk involved, and decide it’s low enough to be worth it.

“Yeah. That’d be nice.”

You hold your hand out, and he takes it, allowing you to pull him to a standing position. You don’t let his hand go immediately. You squeeze it tight, flashing him an adoring smile, and he brings your hand up to kiss the back of it before releasing you.

Together, you make your way to the kitchen, hovering behind your dad as he gets all the necessary cooking supplies out.

“Sorry I worked so late tonight, boys.”

“No worries,” you tell him, casting a brief sideways glance at Daniel. “We can entertain ourselves just fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> come yell about diazcest with me on twt @Juvenile_Gemini


End file.
